"How silly to be so afraid!"

All she cared for now was to get to Ellen and pour out her troubles, and she was quite silent while she jumped ash.o.r.e, although the wavering boat made her clutch Faith's hand hard.

Tender-hearted Faith felt very sorry for her cousin, so she began talking about Vera as they went up the hill saying how anxious she was to hear her speak again.

"I'll never let you!" exclaimed that strong error that had taken possession of Gladys, but her lips set tight and she was glad to see Ellen come out on the piazza.

As the children approached they saw that the maid had something bright in her hand, and that she was smiling.

"Well, Gladys," she said, "your mother's sent a trunk, and this was with your clothes. What do you think of that? I expect your mother thought you might like to have it."

Gladys recognized the silver bowl with satisfaction. She was glad to have Faith and Ernest see the sort of things she was used to.

"Oh, it looks like a wishing bowl," cried Faith in admiration.

"It is a solid silver bowl that my grandmother sent me for my birthday,"

remarked Gladys coolly, and she took it from Ellen.

"Let's see what it says on it," said Faith, and she read the inscription aloud. Then she added: "It does look just like the wishing bowl in our story."

"What was that?" asked Gladys.

"Why, it was a bright, beautiful silver bowl with a cover, and all you had to do if you wanted something was to say:--

Pretty little silver dish, Give me, pray, my dearest wish;

and then, when you took off the cover, whatever you had asked for was in the bowl!"

Gladys shrugged her shoulders. Then she took hold of Ellen's hand and drew her into the house and closed the door after them.

Faith and Ernest did not attempt to follow. They sat down on the steps and looked at one another.

"She's hopping, isn't she?" said Ernest softly.

"Oh, dear," returned Faith dejectedly, "and it all began with the baby prince."

"What do you mean?"

"She wants him for her aquarium."

Ernest paused a minute to think over his cousin's words and actions; then he broke out indignantly; "Well, she won't get him."

"I have hunted for him so long!" mourned Faith, "and his sh.e.l.l is so red; but, Ernest, didn't you notice what it said on that bowl?"

"Yes, I did; but Gladys is a great baby and she isn't going to get everything. Tell her you'll exchange the prince for that baa-ing doll of hers, if you like it. I tell you what, Faith, I've had about enough of her after that boat business. If she's going to stay on here I shall go off with the fellows."

Meanwhile Gladys had seized the beautiful Vera and drawn Ellen off upstairs to their room. The maid saw the signs of storm in her face, and her own grew troubled, for it was one thing to vex Gladys and quite another to appease her.

"I'm not going to stay here," announced the little girl, as soon as the door was closed, her breath coming fast. "Faith and Ernest are the most selfish, impolite children I ever saw!"

Ellen sighed, and, sitting down, drew the child into her lap.

She continued excitedly: "We went turtle-hunting and found a lot of scrabbly things that I couldn't bear, but Faith and Ernest like them. Then when we found a pretty little young one that I wouldn't be a bit afraid of, Faith kept it for herself. Just think, when I was company, and she had all the others beside. I'm just crazy to have it, and they're _very_ hard to find and we can't _ever_ find another. Shouldn't you think she'd feel ashamed? Then when, we went out in the boat, just because I moved around a little and made the boat rock, Ernest brought us in when I didn't want to come a bit. I even _told_ him I didn't want to come in, because I wanted to see a part of the pond that looked pretty, but he brought us just the same.

Did you ever _hear_ of such impoliteness?"

Ellen had had too much experience with the little girl not to know that there was another side to this story; but she gathered Gladys down in her arms with the curly head on her shoulder, and, while a few hot tears fell from the brown eyes, she rocked her, and it comforted the little girl's sore places to feel her nurse's love.

"I'm glad Ernest brought you in," said Ellen, after a minute of silent rocking. "If anything happened to you, you know that would be the last of poor Ellen. I could never go back to town."

Gladys gave a sob or two.

"These children haven't nearly so much as you have," went on Ellen quietly.

"Perhaps Faith was as happy over the little turtle as you are over your talking doll. She hasn't any rich mother to give her things, you know."

"They have _lots_ of things. They have a great deal more fun in winter than I do," returned Gladys hotly.

Ellen patted her. "You have too much, Gladys," she replied kindly. "When I said this morning that you were unlucky, you couldn't understand it; but perhaps this visit to the farm will make you see differently. There's such a thing as having too much, dear, and that sentence on your silver bowl is as true as true. Now there's the supper bell. Let me wash your face."

Gladys was deeply offended, but she was also hungry, and she began to wonder if there would be apple-b.u.t.ter and cottage cheese again.

There was, and the little girl did full justice to the supper, especially to aunt Martha's good bread and b.u.t.ter; but when the meal was over she refused to go out and romp on the lawn with her cousins.

"Gladys isn't used to so much running around," said Ellen pleasantly to the other children. "I guess she's a pretty sleepy girl and will get into bed early."

So when Ellen had helped aunt Martha with the supper dishes, Gladys went upstairs with her, to go to bed.

She was half undressed when some one knocked softly, and Faith came into the room. The silver bowl stood on a table near the door, and the little girl paused to look at it and examine the wreath of roses around its edge.

"I never saw one so handsome," she said. Then she came forward. "I thought perhaps you'd let me see you undress Vera," she added.

"She is undressed," answered Gladys shortly.

"Oh, yes!" Faith went up to the bed where the doll lay in its nightdress.

"May I make her speak once?"

"No, I'm afraid you might hurt her," returned Gladys shortly, and Ellen gave her a reproachful look. Gladys didn't care! How could a girl expect to be so selfish as Faith, and then have everybody let her do just what she wanted to?

Faith drew back from the bed. "I wish you'd let me see you wish once on your bowl before I go away," she said.

"How silly," returned Gladys. "Do you suppose I believe in such things? You can wish on it yourself, if you like."

"Oh, that wouldn't be any use," returned Faith eagerly, "because it only works for the one it belongs to."

"Perhaps you wouldn't like to have me make a wish and get it," said Gladys, thinking of the baby prince's lovely polished tints and bewitching little tail.

"Yes, I would. I'd _love_ to. Do, Gladys, do, and see what happens."

Gladys curved her lips scornfully, but the strong wish sprang in her thought, and with a careless movement she pulled off the silver cover.